


Solitude is an illusion

by Griffontastic



Series: A fistful of sand [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ben-Hassrath, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mages (Dragon Age), Spies & Secret Agents, Strangers to Lovers, Tevinter Imperium (Dragon Age), The Qun (Dragon Age), Venatori
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24983818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griffontastic/pseuds/Griffontastic
Summary: This story takes place soon after the defeat of Corypheus and focuses on the secretive operations of Gatt and his fellow Ben-Hassrath.I really enjoyed Gatt as a character and found the conversations about the Qun with him very engaging. Since I would have loved to see more of Bull's first rescued boy in the game, here I am doing public service for those who share this niche interest with me. :)This is a prequel of sorts to my previous quick drabble, Vexed.
Relationships: Gatt/Original Female Character, Male Elf/Female Human (Dragon Age)
Series: A fistful of sand [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808665
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Breath before the plunge

The elf sat with brows furrowed, his expression unreadable as he studied the report in front of him. The past few weeks were spent with target observation and intricate undercover work, the fruition of which were the names of likely Venatori agents. Investigations like this used to mean for the most part posing as a servant, a perfect disguise for an elf needing to become invisible in the eyes of humans lording their status over every living creature. He hated it. He was no slave nor servant anymore, but it was an excellent cover, nonetheless. Or so it used to be. With this new post his focus shifted to the coordination of more elaborate operations. On the list of potentially compromised scholars he found the one he was hoping to see the most: Nicon Sulara. 

Although he’s been actively trying to distance himself from his fool of a cousin Havian - a proud member of this Old God Cult-, the contacts both Sulara men kept, the clandestine meetings Nicon attended in the dusk along the shadier streets of Val Royeaux all pointed to his involvement. The elven spy had been suspecting him for a while now and his gut rarely led him astray. Naturally, good members of the Qun do not have hunches, they do not act on gut instinct but follow evidence and make their decisions accordingly. He couldn’t fault himself much for listening to his intuition in this case, however, as all the evidence did point where his original impulse has been telling him to look all along. 

Since the recent defeat of the ancient magister Corypheus at the hands of the Inquisition the league of Tevinter supremacists largely dispersed and aimed to cover up their former involvement by all means necessary. There were those, however, who remained active even after the fall of their leader, donning the armour of secrecy. Their numbers may have dwindled but loyal members still sought to collect relics and slaves to work on their magical experiments and bring back Tevinter’s now withered glory.

Coincidentally, this was also the beginning of strange patterns emerging amongst some of the elven servants, seemingly all around Thedas. Fewer complaints were reported and all informants noted the increased distrust towards new introductions to the domestic attendants of noble households. A curious issue to be addressed in the future...

Gatt had been investigating possible routes of covert Venatori operations in Orlais when the discrepancies in the logs of Val Royeaux harbour began to shape a pattern different from those created by the irregular visits of petty smugglers. Small shipments of seemingly miscellaneous origin were disappearing in an organised manner and, although no high standing citizen would have noticed, so were people. Mostly elves, as well as a few humans down on their luck for too long to matter. Ben-Hassrath agents had no trouble identifying the potential danger in the vanishing cargo which after thorough investigation always led them to the same place, the University of Orlais. The abductions, on the other hand, proved to be more opportunistic. In fact, the only reason Gatt was able to even entertain the idea of killing two birds with one stone, was the result of a timely tip from an old friend, formerly of Seheron. Putting an end to the Venatori activity in the area was demanded by the Qun but saving the lives of those sorry bastards was a demand of his own. 

***

The University has always been a cultural melting pot and a most renowned place of education throughout Thedas. The scholars of the institution, in addition to studying matters of theology, mathematics and the natural world, would often venture far and beyond to acquire relics of old; in the hopes that they may enhance their knowledge of the past and future. That the cultists would want to plant some of their informants into the midst of influential academics was to be expected and it seemed it was not only intelligence they were dealing in. The rumours of a fruitful new excavation in Northern Orlais, the discovery of ancient ruins covered in runes ambiguously identified as old Tevene have gotten the bright minds of the college all alight. While under usual circumstances the presence of scholars from Tevinter was no more curious than gathering birds at a pond but their sudden relative abundance did cause the Ben-Hassrath some concern. 

Whatever was afoot it was certainly intriguing. So much so that in his excitement the young altus, Nicon, did not manage to conceal his intentions as well as he thought. Eager to prove he is capable of more than his older cousin - the man has become infamous amongst the Vints for his blunder that got a grand shipment of slaves lost to the cult, after all -; he seems to have already planted the seeds of mistrust amongst some of his fellow countrymen. After reports of sporadic disputes conducted in low voices and a particularly heated argument that ended with a thundering slap Nicon received from a feisty scholarly guest, a mage of Vyrantium, many of them gave the young man a wide berth. 

***

Having memorised every single detail his green eyes lifted from the copy in his hand and with a deep sigh Gatt lit the papers using the small flickering flame of the candle in front of him. Watching secret words burn away in a container had always been an oddly calming experience, this ritual of sorts helped him collect his thoughts before more risky operations. His features calm the elf stood and approached the selection of weapons laid in meticulous order atop the modest drawer of the cramped room. Although the Ben-Hassrath preferred other methods to achieve their goals than bloodshed, they were not the _Antaam_ after all, considering the current situation he very much doubted that his blades would go thirsty for long. Securing his daggers as well as some smaller blades in well hidden places the tall elf took one last glimpse at his quarters before leaving the ramshackle building under the cover of the velvet darkness of the night.

The winding streets near the docks were not frequented by any well meaning sort at such early hours, only the drunk, the desperate and the resolute could be encountered here. The gangly man covered in dark robes seemed both resolved and desperate, his demeanor positively shifty as he snuck through dark corners with his gaze practically bouncing from one side of the alley to the other. Gatt had no trouble following him alternating between rooftops and the ground covered in the shade of various buildings with feline grace. He soon also noticed that he was not the only pursuer of this potential agent. As he kept a good distance from his target, waiting for his next move atop a rather shabby looking home the spys eyes fell on a female figure watching Nicon from across the corner of a small lane leading directly to the harbour. He could not quite make out who this woman was, other than she was likely human, but her stance and movements as she followed seemed somewhat familiar. _Vashedan_! Whoever this was they could shatter his entire strategy and spook the Venatori. They could lose the intel, the relics and the people. This was no time for patience, he told himself, as he leapt into the murky obscurity of the below.


	2. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Petra's first big mission since the course of the rebellion took a new turn. It would be a shame if something didn't go according to plan...

Petra Calavia had no serene bone in her body on an ordinary day but her current circumstances had all her senses aflame with vigilance. The overpowering odour of fish emanating from the docks did nothing to ease her discomfort and the strange sounds of the night did anything but placate her hammering heart. She had been an active member of the underground Tevinter rebellion for some time now, but her duties rarely included undertaking such intricate covert and likely violent operations. Things took a sudden turn, however, when the son of Magister Pavus returned home as an Inquisition veteran; and in addition to taking on the position of Ambassador, he embraced their paltry order and made it into a significant force of defiance against the current political system. 

Manoeuvring amongst the academics of Minrathous and Vyrantium in search of information was a dangerous enough undertaking but following a fellow _altus_ to some shady abandoned shack, likely full of prospective slaves, in Orlais of all places, was an entirely different kettle of fish. Ugh fish… the thought reminded her of her current location and sent her nose crinkling in disgust. She can do this, she told herself, her abilities were more than suitable and her contact was supposed to be awaiting her signal. If only her nerves would quiet so easily.

Nicon Sulara moved cautiously towards a particularly dark section of the building, possibly in search of a side door. Sliding without noise to a corner of the alley for a better view the woman’s eyes were locked on the dark silhouette of her mark, her muscles tense, magic practically sizzling in her hand which involuntarily felt for the hilts of her spirit blades. A small flicker of light and a barely audible echo of a snap announced the shattering of a magical barrier across the street... and something else perhaps, something muffled closer to her side. A cat perhaps? Val Royeaux was notorious for her strays. She saw the robed figure disappear into the depths of the shadows and she knew she had to follow. Before she could contemplate her next move, however, she heard the previous sound again, from much closer. No sooner had she thought to charge her weapon than what felt like a decidedly sharp blade pressed lightly but firmly to her throat while another pinned her wrist back, into the wall.

“I do not suggest trying any magical trickery, my dagger just might slip,  _ Vint _ .” Whispered the elf in her ear. His dark eyes held her gaze with cold authority while she stood too close to blade and man, at his mercy, yet defiant and silent. “It seems we share a target. I now need you to tell me who you are and why are you after Nicon Sulara. Do not play coy with me, I would rather get the truth from you without further coercion.”

Her thoughts were racing at a rapid pace. This elven man was on the same trail as her and by his use of the hated slur, he is no friend to Sulara, nor to anyone from Tevinter for that matter. How did an unknown variable like him come to inconvenience her so? She very much doubted that Dorian and his Inquisition friends would have crossed their wires like this, they were like a well oiled machine together, after all; which meant one of two things. This was either an agent of an organisation outside her usual territory or, what was more likely, one of the usual suspects with a particular dislike towards…  _ Vints _ . On a second (not unappreciative) glance at the tall elf at a breath’s distance of her, she decided the latter must be the case and she was now facing a member of the Ben-Hassrath. Petra pondered her options briefly, concluding that giving a limited amount of truthful information seemed like the best course of action considering her knowledge on the Qunari. Logic could win her this contest of wills.

“My name is Petra Calavia,  _ Qunari _ ” She hissed the words through tight lips. The man smirked at what apparently was a correct conclusion on her part, looking somewhat impressed. “I am a knight enchanter of Vyrantium, a scholar of the Ancient Imperium amongst other things..., and occasional spy, it seems... That man is collecting slaves, as I’m sure you know. I am also certain neither of us wants him to succeed in whatever his goals are.”

After a moment of consideration the elf gave her an appraising look then lifted his blade from the woman’s throat. 

“Gatt.” He said. Was that his name? That was no rank she recalled and her memory and knowledge were both excellent, thank you very much. She was not about to question this concession on the man’s part, however. “Getting those people out of their inevitable doom would be preferred, yes. The boy has multiple strings to one bow though and if I want to get to my people and disrupt his second operation, this one needs to be shut down fast.”

Petra looked at him curiously. She met and fought Qunari before, but he sounded different, very unlike a fanatic. Something she often thought of them as in spite of her better judgement. The teachings of the Qun on paper could sound seductive but in practice… The yoke of the Qun was manifold and she had a hard time accepting that there were those who chose it voluntarily. Upon emerging from her thoughts the realisation that she may have been watching Gatt with some intensity elicited a blush thankfully invisible in the black night.

“You want to work with me then?” She finally managed.

“I don’t see another option. You and your contact, whoever that is.” The right corner of his lips turned up in a sly grin at her astonishment. “You figured out I was with the Ben-Hassrath, did you really think I won’t know you are not working alone?” He suddenly shifted his head slightly. “I believe here they are already.” His features unreadable, his hands ready, but unmoving.

The air shifted and something large came emerging from the gloomy alley with deceptively light steps. Horns glistened in the momentarily appearing moonlight and a sad smile was painted over the rugged face of the enormous Kossith.

“Gatt, it is good to see you!” His voice was low but earnest.

“Iron Bull…” The words seemed heavy and foreign on the elven lips.


	3. Reluctant co-operation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Two former friends meet and for the time being put aside their differences. ___

“I have to admit, I had my doubts about whether you’d turn up. I take it the rest of your team is preparing to hit the ship?”  
“That’s classified information… and if you weren’t certain I’d be here, then being Tal-Vashoth for so long clearly had you forget who I am.” scoffed Gatt. The bitterness of his tone did not conceal the sorrow lacing his words.  
“Humph. I still know you well enough to understand that my message would not get passed on to your fellow agents, whatever your feelings on my current position are. You have clearly made a choice here, a personal one.” Offered Bull.  
Of course he did, and he knew it... How could the little elf boy with his tortured past, saved by this very qunari have betrayed him now and jeopardise a mission such as this. He hated to think of himself that way though, weak and vulnerable. He hated many things during moments of doubt, but reserved the deepest of condemnations to himself. Everything in life was a choice, however, and in this one he found his strength.  
The sound of shuffling feet reminded the two men of the presence of the mage. Clearly unsure what the appropriate reaction to the situation would be, she pursed her lips and looked at Bull quizzically.  
“So… you informed a Ben-Hassrath agent that we are disrupting a slavers’ ring…” she shrugged at the frustrated look the two men shared. “Well, I am just pointing out the obvious here.” It seems she’s a compulsive talker, thought the elf, _wonderful _.  
“Yes, well… trust me, the risks were calculated and Gatt’ll be useful. In the meantime we can be sure the rest of the Venatori are kept in check.”  
“Alright, alright! Though some warning next time would be useful. I am not too fond of finding a blade at my throat and an angry Qunari holding it!” She shot an accusatory look at Gatt, who seemed to enjoy her irritation a little too much for her liking.  
“I see Inquisition surveillance techniques went downhill since last you reported to us.” chimed in the elf amused.  
“Let’s just say this is not strictly Inquisition business… yet, and we will leave it at that.” Bull’s tone strongly suggested the topic reached its end and no one seemed eager to debate the question further.  
“Fine. Let’s get this over with, I have an appointment to attend. ” __

____

____

***

There was no time to ponder over a convoluted plan, they had to act fast. Building on intel and some of the good old classic techniques of distraction and rapid threat elimination, the trio worked together as a well oiled machine. Being by Bull’s side reignited something in Gatt he thought long gone. He felt pride in this job, it was the right thing to do. He knew it was so, as the first person to teach him how to protect those who are unable to fight their oppressors now fought alongside him. Again. There were some subtle but noticeable alterations to his fighting style, he was perhaps more brash (no doubt the result of working with his _Chargers _), but still... he clearly honed his skills since leaving the Qun.  
The _mage _proved to be rather useful as well; not only was she best suited to distract the “personnel”, but she was also able to handle herself in a fight… rather well, actually. The elf noted not to get on her bad side while in such close quarters as he saw the edge of a spirit blade poking through a particularly nasty slaver’s back, which happened to burst out of his body without much of a preamble. Although her widened eyes and slightly parted lips betrayed her barely registered shock, the mage was able to move on from the scene, for the time being at least. She will have time to deal later, if they make it out in one piece. Despite how green she seemed initially with regards to investigations beyond the academic, she proved more than capable in the end. This clearly was not her first dip into the murky waters of Venatori business ventures.  
Entering the depths of the building, it became clear that the guards were more of a precaution than anything else, Sulara did not truly anticipate anyone caring for the quarry that he’d been gradually gathering here. As a result, manoeuvring the building together was certainly no hard task for the three of them, yet time was running short. In order to make it to his main target on schedule, Gatt needed this side adventure of his to wrap up fast. He was in luck it seemed, as in the following room the scholar began to deactivate the numerous magical traps laid a particularly sturdy looking door. This was it then.____

_____ _

____

*** 

Nicon was draped in the darkness of the barely lit room, studying the numerous sheets of parchment laid out before him. He barely had a chance to register the slight movement from the corner of his eyes, as he looked up he witnessed his fellow Tevinter mage (a tall fellow with an ominous green light emanating from his staff) stiffen all of a sudden, then drop head first on the table with a dagger in his back. His fall sent much of the paperwork floating through the air. The young scholar and Venatori agent then watched mouth agape as a horned figure towered over him. Closing his mouth, the man in robes did his best to appear serene, yet his clenching jaw betrayed his fear.  
“Nicon Sulara. We should talk about what you are hiding in here… Hmm, let’s also discuss your Venatori friends.” said Bull.  
“I’m not one for talking, unfortunately!” said the mage as he grabbed as many sheets of parchment from around his fallen comrade as he could reach, when another dagger shot through his hand, leaving him biting back tears of pain. Looking at the general area where the dagger flew from, he could not quite make out the tall figure standing in the shadows; but he put on a defiant look as the papers still remaining in his hand burst into flames. _“Shit!” _Heard the Venatori from behind, as a woman… a very familiar woman in fact… suddenly appeared at the side of the intimidating Qunari and tried to save the burning documents as best as she could.__  
“Aren’t you…?”  
Darkness fell then, and Nicon Sulara knew no more.


End file.
